The scalping black art of the spirit spell.
A winged creature's stench of decaying spirit robes
touching of the deceased's corpse scent from the corpse worm's mouth
telling knowledge from the shadow side the appalling stench of death comes
from the end of the evening of life.
The body's ink must rot in the root of underground cores.
Life's gloomy ruckus must be a carnal flock angsel.
Crush the tree of life.
Dark halls of blackness, whose frame is clad in rotting corpses.
A lifeless gaze from the corpse stares.
Sorrowful souls must be condemned forever.
The king's throne must consist of human flesh and blood.
Satan's slaves must forever enslave the sanctuary of light in his eternity.

KORREKTUREN ÃœBERMITTELN